Page 58 of Storm of Stars
“It’s the moment of truth,” Devrin said, adjusting his seatbelt. “Time to find out if the Wildguard was enough to rally the troops.”
He didn’t mean it like a challenge, but it landed in my chest like one. My heart tightened. I could only hope we’d done enough, that the Runaways believed in us as much as we believed in them. That they knew, like we did, the time for waiting was long past.
Ezra nudged Thorne’s foot with the toe of his boot. Thorne startled awake, sitting up sharply with sleep-mussed hair flopping into his eyes. He blinked at me, confused for half a second, then smiled, slow and crooked. So damn adorable.
“We’re almost there,” I explained softly.
My pulse quickened as we crested a small hill, the tires rumbling over uneven ground. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, trying to steady my breath.
In the distance, the gleam of Praxis's outer gates shimmered gold in the rising sun. But it wasn’t the city that stole the breath from my lungs.
At the base of the hill, thousands of people stood waiting.
Tents. Weapons. Painted banners bearing the moth symbol fluttered in the wind. Supplies. An army. My throat went tight. My heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum.
We drove slowly into the crowd. As we passed, heads turned. Eyes widened as they saw us through the windows. Then came the cheers, wild, uncontainable sound breaking through the morning stillness like thunder.
They knew who we were. They had been waiting for us.
“They came,” I whispered.
“Holy shit,” Devrin breathed.
“I wish Ma could’ve seen this,” Thorne murmured. His voice cracked slightly as he looked up into the mirror, meeting Briar’s eyes. She glanced at him with something like pride and sorrow tangled in her gaze.
I reached out and took Thorne’s hand. Gave it a squeeze. Then looked at Briar and offered her a soft smile full of gratitude.
She slowed the bus to a careful stop.
We were dirty, scraped, bloodied, and barely clothed in anything that resembled dignity. But I had never felt more powerful.
The Runaways were here.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Zaffir
The Show Centerwas chaotic and buzzing with the frantic energy that always came from the final moments of the Run. Screens flickered with live feeds, editors shouted timestamps back and forth, and the air buzzed with an electric kind of tension, something between excitement and dread. The final trial had begun.
They’d called all the editors on-site for the last two trials. Nearly every moment was going out live now, or as close to real time as possible. Where usually we did our work hidden behind the curtain, we were suddenly given a front-row seat. I had been working faster than I ever had in my life, stitching together footage from the islands.
Thorne and Briar had made it out mostly intact. Scraped, bruised, but moving with the unshaken calm of people who knew how to survive the wild. I’d expected as much from them.
But Brexlyn and Ezra…
Their screams had embedded themselves into my skull. Ezra’s trembling hands, and fire covered body. Bex’s voice, ragged with panic. I could still see the way the camera caughtthe moment Ezra spoke to the air then collapsed, eyes wide with something that looked too much like acceptance of death, and then nothing at all. Blank.
I had sent off the latest cut to the producers, but I couldn’t move from the main screen now. I couldn’t pretend to be useful. Not when Ezra was lying still, too still. His chest wasn’t rising. His heart wasn’t beating. The feed didn’t lie.
He was dead.
And I felt it like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my ribs.
There were too many eyes around. Executives, security, media reps, high-ranking officials from Praxis excited and eager for the carnage of the end of the Run. I couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now.
I forced my body to remain still, to breathe evenly. But my jaw ached from how hard I was biting my cheek. I could taste the metallic tang of blood. My palms were sweating so badly they left streaks on the desk. I clung to the edge of the table as I watched Brexlyn pull the machine up beside Ezra. Her hands shook, her voice cracked, but she worked. She wouldn’t let him go.
